


late night confessions

by OceanEyes1n



Series: a softer epilogue [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Implied/Reference Slavery, Introspection, M/M, Padmé Amidala and Anakin Skywalker Are Not Married, Pre-Relationship, Slavery, could be read as gen - Freeform, i meant it as romantic tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:15:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28681692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OceanEyes1n/pseuds/OceanEyes1n
Summary: “I’m not the Jedi I should be.”A late night conversation between a captain and his general.
Relationships: CT-7567 | Rex & Anakin Skywalker, CT-7567 | Rex/Anakin Skywalker
Series: a softer epilogue [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2102262
Comments: 13
Kudos: 187





	late night confessions

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to @barissoffee on tumblr - the unofficial captain of rexwalker who got me into this ship.
> 
> This is my first posted fic! It's been sitting in my drafts for months, so I'm excited to finally post it. 
> 
> You can find me @sleepyoceaneyes on tumblr.

Rex rested one arm over his bent knee and the other atop his helmet next to his hip. He and General Skywalker were taking a break from writing up their latest mission report. Night had fallen, and normally they would’ve been doing this inside the General’s personal tent but the weather of the planet they were on was nice, so when the General suggested they work outside he’d agreed. An hour later and their report was all but forgotten. Aside from the crackling of the fire and the shouts of his brothers in the distance, silence had descended between them. The campaign had been relatively short and easy - compared to some of their past campaigns, anyway - so he didn’t begrudge his brothers from celebrating. He knew he’d eventually join them. But for now he had to attend to his General.

He had thought that General Skywalker would’ve been right with his brothers in celebrating, and he had been, for a time- grinning and laughing and eating with them. So he’d been surprised when Skywalker had found him and requested that they conduct their report tonight instead of tomorrow on their trip back to Coruscant. And they had worked on it for a bit, but it was obvious that the General had had something else on his mind.

Rex watched General Skywalker from the corner of his eye, but his caution was unneeded; Skywalker was staring directly into the fire, unmoving. It was the most still Rex could remember seeing him. The General was constantly moving - tapping his fingers against his lightsaber, bouncing his knee, pacing along the ship, fiddling with droid parts - always in motion. And the longer he stayed still the more concerned Rex grew. He twisted to look more at him, noting the way the fire reflected in his eyes, turning the flame blue. Even though they were only sitting a few feet apart it was clear from his expression that his mind was lightyears away.

Now Rex wasn’t Force sensitive, but even he knew that there was something about his General that drew people to him, like he had his own gravitational pull. There was a brightness to him, as if he was a star forced into human skin. Maybe it was a Force thing or just Skywalker, but he drew people’s eyes. And not always in a good way. His jaw tightened at the thought of Miraj Scintel and all the others who have tried to extinguish his light. So Rex let himself look for an extra second. Let himself see the shadows the fire cast on Skywalker’s face, the way his hair curled over his forehead, the hunched line of his shoulders. After all, it was his job to look out for his Jedi, his General.

“Sir?”

Skywalker blinked like he was coming out of a daze, but his eyes found Rex’s easily. The edges of his mouth quirked up. “Sorry Rex. What’d you say?”

His brows furrowed. “Are you alright, sir?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine.” He smiled, but it was weak.

Rex cleared his throat, feeling awkward. Comforting people wasn’t his strong suit, but he wasn’t going to ignore whatever was going on with his General. “Do you- uh, do you want to talk about it?”

Skywalker’s expression turned amused, his smile becoming more genuine. “It’s nothing.” Rex might’ve believed him if his eyes weren’t still so sad.

“Okay.” Rex hesitated. He didn’t want to overstep, but it was clear something was bothering him. Granted, he might not be the best person to help with whatever was going on but- “if you ever need someone to listen...”

Skywalker’s expression flickered before his smile disappeared altogether. He glanced back at the fire, lips pressed firmly together. Rex thought that was going to be the end of that line of conversation until he started talking.

“I’m not the Jedi I should be.”

His voice was quiet but direct, like he’d accepted it. Rex immediately straightened, his eyes widening. He hadn’t actually expected him to reply, and of all the things he thought might be bothering Skywalker, this was at the bottom of the list. He’d expected something about the war or the Jedi council, maybe even Obi-Wan- not self doubts. Based on his heavy tone Rex could tell this was something he’d been thinking about for a while, that this was a serious concern in his mind and not just something popped into his head. The moment stretched, a heaviness settling between them in the wake of his statement. Rex’s first reaction was to deny it, but he worried over what to say back, wanting to say the right thing.

Skywalker’s expression turned rueful, and he turned to look over at Rex. “I think I’m a better soldier than a Jedi.” Running his left hand through his hair, he ducked his head down and rested his arms over his bent knees. “And I have no excuse for it, not like… not like Ahsoka did. I was a Padawan during peacetime, but fighting’s all I’m good at.”

Rex watched him intently, noting his lowered gaze and the anxious way he picked at the glove on his right hand, and he stopped trying to figure out the perfect response and just talked. “I can’t speak for the Jedi, sir, but you’re a damn fine General. You’ve led us into hundreds of battles, fought by our sides, risked your life for ours without hesitation... and that’s not nothing. Not to us.”

Skywalker’s expression was solemn when their gazes met. “What do you know about the Jedi?” He asked, uncurling to lean back on his hands.

Rex frowned but answered dutifully. “Not much, sir.”

“Well, younglings are usually taken to the Jedi Temple to be trained when they’re a few years old, like two or three. I was brought to the Temple when I was nine. And the only reason they let me in was because of how strong in the Force I am.” His mouth twisted bitterly. “But they thought I was too old, too emotional, to train.” He paused, then sighed. “They weren’t wrong.”

His words made Rex think of Fives and Echo. He’d already been out in the field when they’d been training on Kamino, but from what he’d heard they’d almost failed the last training exercise needed to graduate into active duty. But, despite being more… unconventional compared to some of their brothers, they were good soldiers. Creative and passionate and headstrong, and part of what made the 501st so successful in the field. But the legion only worked as well as it did because they had an unconventional Jedi like Skywalker leading them, encouraging their differences and out-of-the-box thinking. He could understand the Jedi’s hesitancy in training Skywalker - he was by far the most emotional out of all the Jedi he’d met. He projected his emotions so freely that everything he felt was clear on his face. Maybe that made him a bad Jedi-he didn’t know-but it made him a good general. The 501st trusted him. He was just as invested as they were in every battle, just as devastated and angry and determined as they were.

Settling more into his seat, Skywalker asked, “what will you do when the war’s over?”

The sudden question threw Rex, startling him out of his thoughts. Thinking about the end of the war always felt a bit like tempting fate, and he wondered if the General knew something he didn’t. Good news, hopefully. He struggled for something to say and settled on, “I’ve never really thought about it.”

It was simultaneously a lie and the truth. Every clone had thought about the end of the war. It was both the monster at the end of the hallway and the light at the end of the tunnel. Ending the war was what they were created to do, was what they all wanted more than anything else- to save the Republic and bring peace to the Galaxy. But it was what came after that worried them. No one mentioned it outright, hiding their anxiety in tight smiles and near silent whispers, but the uncertainly hung over them all like a noose. What would happen to them once the war ended? Would the Republic stop the production of clones? Would they still be soldiers? Would they go on to serve the Republic for the rest of their lives?

Or could they be granted citizenship, given the ability to choose? To be free?

Rex didn’t know what he wanted. Being a soldier was all he knew, was what he was good at. And sometimes he thought that even if he was given the choice he’d choose to stay a soldier. But then he’d remember Cut Lawquane, his brother who left the GAR and had his own family, and hesitated. Sometimes he found himself thinking of Cut and his family, and wondered if he’d like a life like that. He didn’t know what he wanted, but he thought he’d like to be given the choice, at least.

Feeling warm under his armor from his General’s intense gaze and desperate to redirect his attention, he asked, “and you, General? What will you do?”

In return he got a small sigh and a halfhearted smile. “I don’t know.”

Rex blinked in surprise. He had assumed Skywalker would stay with the Jedi and hadn’t expected any other answer. Skywalker had complained about the Jedi several times in the past, but he’d always thought Skywalker was just blowing off some steam about his frustrations with them. Now he wasn’t so sure. Now he was starting to think there was something deeper to his words, that his doubts were more than surface deep.

Curious, he softened his voice and asked, “what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. I thought I’d be a Jedi forever. Now I’m not sure. When I was younger I wanted to free all the slaves in the Republic, but being a Jedi’s shown me it’s not that simple. Arrogant idea, isn't it?”

His voice was amused, but something about his tone was off, like he was repeating someone else’s words. Like he had told someone about wanting to free slaves and that’s what they’d told him in response.

Studying Skywalker’s dejected posture, Rex let some of his admiration enter his voice when he told him, “I don’t know about that. If anyone could do it, it’d be you.”

And he meant it. He’d seen his General do countless things that he would’ve sworn to be impossible if he hadn’t seen them with his own eyes. If Skywalker actually wanted to do this, Rex had no doubt he’d be successful.

The smile Skywalker gave him was like seeing a sun break through the clouds, and he couldn’t help the way his heart sped up at the sight.

“I just want the option to choose, you know?”

Rex had been truthful when he said he didn’t know much about the Jedi. Back on Kamino, the stories told of the Jedi made them out to be mythical gods more than anything else; they were portrayed as unkillable, wise warriors who could do anything. Unfortunately, he’d learned that wasn’t always true. He knew that the Jedi served the Senate, like the clones did. And listening to Skywalker’s doubts and wants made him think that maybe they had more in common than he thought.

His voice was quiet when he said, “I understand, sir. Whatever happens after this- whatever you choose to do, I- we’ll be with you.” It was an unrealistic promise and they both knew it, but Rex meant it. And he knew the rest of the 501st would agree. Jedi or not, Skywalker was their General.

“Thank you, Rex. And it’s the same for me. When the war ends, I’ll help you all with whatever you want to do. I won’t abandon you.”

Rex swallowed roughly, not knowing how to respond, and dipped his head in acknowledgement.

Skywalker let out a self-conscious laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Sorry for unloading on you. I’m sure you want to rest and join the others-”

“I don’t mind.” He paused, then added, “I’m glad you told me.”

“You’re a good friend.” His expression turned uncertain, eyes wide. “We are friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course, sir.”

Skywalker made a face at the formality. “You can call me Anakin if you want.”

Rex hesitated. Friend or not, Skywalker was still his General, his superior officer. Referring to him so informally felt… wrong. Disrespectful almost.

His face must’ve shown what he was thinking because Skywalker amended his statement and said, “you could call me Anakin when we’re alone?”

Rex fought down his initial urge to refuse and let himself consider it. He supposed that when it was just the two of them… and they weren’t discussing official business… it would be alright.

“I- uh, I think that would be fine, s- Anakin. Anakin.” He couldn’t help but repeat his name, slowly, trying to get over the uneasiness he felt at using it.

The strangeness of saying his General's name was worth it when Skyw- when Anakin grinned at him brightly. Rex was grateful that the dark of the night hid his flushed face.

“Well, we’ve got an early start tomorrow so I’m going to head in for the night,” Anakin said, standing. He walked over to Rex, setting a hand on his shoulder briefly. “Goodnight Rex.”

“Goodnight Anakin.”

Rex watched him walk over to his tent and disappear inside it. Heart pounding against his ribs, he sat there for a moment, feeling strangely breathless. Images of Anakin’s face flashed through his mind, from his distressed expression to his amusement and lingering on the wide smile he’d given him when Rex used his name for the first time. He shoved those thoughts away and rose shakily to his feet, putting out the fire methodically. Scooping up his helmet, he headed off toward his brothers, determined to attribute the warmth he felt to the fire and the unsteady beat of his heart to Anakin being so open with him.


End file.
